“According to our intel, they put this ship together in record time. Before he died, Donovan outlined several weak points in the design where corners were cut to save time. According to his assessment, placing explosives in measured intervals along seams here, here, here, and here should cause it to break apart in such a manner as to resemble a major structural failure.”
“Why is that important?” asked Aguilar.
“The Chinese will be watching on long-range detection equipment. If they think the ship was deliberately destroyed, it will escalate tensions on the Korean Peninsula. I don’t need to remind you how many nuclear launch facilities are located in that part of the world. We have to make it appear as though the ship suffered a navigational failure and drifted too close to the planet, thus breaking apart in atmo.”
“Navigational failure?” Amit said skeptically. “You would need to doctor the Checkpoint Flight Path in the NavSat Computer to make it look convincing.”
“I know,” Tatyana nodded. “That is your part in all of this, Amit. You will create a six-hour Navigational Checkpoint Flight Path that causes a slight deviation from the Ark’s prescribed flight path. You will need to make it appear as though the NavSat Computer onboard the ship malfunctioned when factoring in the gravitational pull of Mars.”
“But how will we upload it?” Amit pressed. “To fully interface it with the previous Flight Path, someone would need to manually sync it with the NavSat Computer.”
“Julian will take care of that.”
“I will?” balked the Frenchmen loudly. “This is the first I’m hearing of it.”
With iron calm, Captain Vodevski turned her attention on Julian and Aguilar.
“You two will rendezvous with the Chinese ship, using a trajectory that obscures you from detection by Earthside monitoring equipment. Flying head on, you will stay in the shadow, so to speak, of the Ark. You will need to launch at exactly the right moment when our two ships are aligned. According to Earthside estimates, the flight will be in the neighborhood of seven hours. You will depart exactly nine minutes and twelve seconds after 0200 on the morning of Sol 108.”
Puffing up his cheeks, Aguilar’s eyes burned. “You’ve known about all of this for a while haven’t you?” he said softly.
“Yes.”
Tatyana’s face was unapologetic as she spoke the word and, in that moment, Aguilar was in awe of her strength and control.
“Okay, just making sure,” he smiled thinly.
“So, what?” Julian interjected. “We fly out, dock with the Chinese ship, then upload the doctored Navigational Flight Path Records to cause a deviation. Am I right so far?”
“Yes,” she replied. “After you have started running the modified Flight Path, you will have six hours to rig the ship with explosive charges at the pressure points chosen by Donovan for maximum effectiveness and plausibility. When you are finished, you will leave the ship by way of a trajectory that doubles you back behind it. As soon as the Ark begins its descent into the Martian atmosphere, you will blow it up.”
“And kill everyone on board,” added Julian.
Catching an acid glare from Tatyana, he shrugged and produced a crooked grin.
“What? I’m just making sure I fully understand my mission, Captain.”
“What if the Pulse has already damaged the Chinese ship?” Amit said hopefully. “I mean think about it. What if we don’t need to do anything? Maybe we can just sit back and watch it crash on its own.”
“Unfortunately, the Chinese ship was designed as ours was. It does not require an AI to run basic navigational and life-support systems. Furthermore, there is no human pilot at the controls so the Pulse would not have been able to travel through the necessary human conduit in order to damage the NavSat linkages.”
“It was a nice thought, Amit,” Julian said jokingly.
“I do what I can,” sighed the Indian.
“Where are we going to get the explosives?” asked Aguilar.
Pointing to the glowing cross-section of the Chinese ship, Tatyana gave a shallow nod.
“As I said earlier, Donovan discovered that the payload of this ship contains fewer supplies than weapons. A cargo manifest stolen by the dearly departed AI shows a large cache of explosives and remote blasting caps. Julian, Joseph, I’ve prepared a file to help you familiarize yourselves with them so that you don’t accidentally blow yourselves up.”
“What if,” Julian began gravely, “our gracious hosts are not so much asleep when we board their ship? Though Chinese hospitality is known the world over, I somehow imagine that a boat full of soldiers might be less inclined to serve up hot tea and dumplings should they catch us as stowaways.”
“According to our intel, they aren’t scheduled to wake until they have taken up orbit around Mars.”
“In other words,” muttered Aguilar. “Work quickly.”
“One last thing,” Tatyana said, raising a hand to stop the group from departing. “No one outside of this room can know about our mission.”
“There is no one outside of this room!” laughed Julian. “We’re in space!”
“You know what I mean,” Tatyana frowned. “For a conspiracy to work properly, as few people as possible need to be involved. Even I am not fully in control of all the specifics to this plan. Earthside Command is covering its tracks very well, and as a result, we are all a little in the dark here. Communications are being monitored, so do not divulge anything we have spoken about to anyone back on Earth or on Mars.”
“They’re going to get one hell of a fireworks show,” Aguilar sighed as he pushed off from his chair. “Here’s to hoping we don’t rain flaming wreckage down all over them.”
Chapter Eighteen
The Purge
The wall was massive. Though unfinished, it towered into the night like the broken teeth of a sleeping giant. With only three heavily guarded gates, it had become a symbol to the citizens. To some it represented safety, to others it was a cage. Extending on all borders of the city, the wall cut through the Crescent Lake, spoiling its waters. Only open to the yawning mouth of the Great Canyon, the wall formed a noose around the city and choked it quietly with increasing malice.
Ze, son of Teo, dashed quickly through the narrow nighttime streets, his weathered countenance set firmly in a mask of apprehension. Stopping at an intersection between two paths, he cast his head around as if gathering his bearings in the maze-like alleys. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he set off again, taking a path that led towards the outskirts of the city. Driven by feverish determination, his sandal-clad feet slapped the ground and caused shallow echoes to bounce off the walls as he darted from shadow to shadow.
Pulled behind him as if by invisible strings, the brothers Remus and Romulus glided through the night with ease. Unlike Ze, whose chest heaved with the exertion of running, the twins felt no loss of breath, no tiredness in their limbs, and—most importantly—no fear. As was sometimes the case with important moments in Martian history, the brothers were taken, transported into Ze’s company as if their witness were needed to confirm some cosmic point.
Slowing as he neared a small open square, Ze stepped carefully out into the dimly lit space and waited for a moment. A cistern of carved stone stood in the center of the square, its deep bowl filled with cool dark water. Like many of the little piazzas and squares that dotted the city, this place had only two ways in or out.
Ze looked across to the exit on the opposite side then started walking towards it.
“Ze,” came a voice from the darkness in front of him.
Frozen by the sound of his name, Ze’s shoulders hunched and he cast his eyes to the sky as if in defeat
Stepping from the shadows, Kaab emerged into the open, followed by an armed guard. The wide thin blade of the guard’s axe reflected the wet hue of blood, and small droplets fell onto the cobblestones. Cut from a hard black rock the Martians called Dolaz, the axe was extremely sharp.
“Kaab,” breathed Ze with d
ismay.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry, my friend?” asked Kaab in a slightly mocking tone.
Draped in robes both colorful and extravagant, Kaab had long since grown into adulthood, a feat which for a Martian took over one hundred and twenty years to achieve. Though actually younger than Ze, Kaab’s face was deeply lined and his eyes seemed to have sunken back into their sockets. A large palm print was tattooed from the top of his head to just above his eyes in the spot where, long ago, Yuvee had rested his hand when speaking through Kaab.
“Didn’t you hear me, Ze? I asked you where you were going.”
“I am—” Ze started.
“You are what?” Kaab interrupted. “Sneaking? spying? Going to meet one of your traitorous friends? Don’t bother.”
Breathing quickly, Ze heard a sound behind him and turned to see a second armed guard entering the square from the alley he’d come in through. Like the first’s, this guard's axe was also slick with blood, spatters of which speckled his chest and face
“Do you know why the Great Spirits left us, Ze?” Kaab sneered.
Before Ze could respond, Kaab cut him off.
“It was because people like you and your mother never respected them as the gods they were. You were content, as was that old fool Olo, to believe that we were of the same fabric as them. Over time, this vanity and ignorance weighed on the minds of our Great Spirits. As gods, they required our obedience and worship and we failed to provide them with it. Only myself and those that follow me truly hold the Great Spirits to the level they deserve.”
“You fool,” whispered Ze. “You know better than any that they were not gods but simply beings, like us, from another world. How many times must the right eye deny what the left has seen when both are looking at the same thing?”
“Like your mother, you mince words well. But in the end only I know what was really in the mind of Yuvee, for he chose me to be his voice.”
“My mother knew him too, Kaab. And she still commands much respect. Don’t forget that she was a great leader even before the first stones of our city were raised. We citizens of Crescent Lake City live long lives and some yet remember the arrival of our Teachers.”
“Yes,” Kaab said flatly. “But many more remember their departure. Your mother and her kind are terribly old. Life was hard before the city, and many have already passed on from the ailments of the dark ages. Those that remain find that time is not on their side. In fact, by the light of tomorrow's sun, only my closest friends and allies will recall the day the Gods descended. My word and the words of my followers will ring as truth.”
“My mother,” shot Ze with fire, “is still strong and keen. You cannot deny our voice within the Tribunal. We are not outlaws, Kaab. Just because you are the builder of walls does not give you the right to detain me like this.”
Stepping back towards the shadows of the alley, Kaab smiled.
“You say your mother is strong. How strong? Strong enough to fight for her life against my assassins? None of the others were. The Tribunal may remain intact, but few care for their constant bickering and discussion. Yuvee ruled as a single leader for many countless years and look where it brought us. Now, in his absence, our people cry out for someone who is powerful and wise like the Great Spirits were. I am that leader, and you and your kind stand in my way. After tonight, none who remember the arrival of our wise Great Spirits will be left to argue with me. It is time we look ahead and not back. Don’t you agree?”
“You don’t have to do this!” called Ze. “There can always be dissidence in society. That is one of the many things Yuvee taught us. All do not need to follow the vision of one!”
“Yes they do,” said Kaab over his shoulder then disappeared down the alleyway into the night.
Closing in, the two guards blocked any means of escape Ze might take. With one in front and the other behind, the aging Martian diplomat was trapped.
“Don’t do as he orders,” he implored the young men. “Think what this will mean for our great city! The balance that Yuvee put in place will be destroyed if Kaab takes control of the Tribunal. He has used your reverence for the Great Teachers to bend you to his will. Please, I beg you. Don’t do this.”
“Spoken like a true heretic,” said the guard behind him, the poison of power already working its way through his veins.
“How many have you killed tonight” Ze spoke, his tone hardening into ice. “How many of your elders have you murdered for Kaab? What gods would want this? What leader commands his followers to blot out history with the stains of innocent blood?”
Unconvinced, the guards hardly seemed to hear Ze as they moved into striking position. Stopping an arm’s length from the son of Teo, the guard in front went to raise his axe.
Moving with a burst of speed so surprising that the guard had no time to react, Ze spun forward, taking the man’s arm and wrenching the axe from his grasp. The crack of broken bone cut the night air as Ze continued the movement and snapped the guard’s wrist. In one fluid motion, he swung the axe—severing the wounded man's head before he even had a chance to notice that his arm was broken. Then with the same cutting arc, Ze pivoted and brought the axe full-circle, burying it deep in the neck of the guard behind him. The whole scene took less than three seconds to play out, and when it was finished, thick spurts of brown blood pumped from the dead guards onto the cobblestones.
Rolling, the head Ze had so artfully detached from its owner’s body bumped against the stone cistern in the center of the square. With a long sorrowful look at his surgical killings, Ze sighed deeply. Then, stepping deftly over the body of the guard with the axe in his neck, he jerked the weapon free and ran back down the alley he’d entered through, towards the house of his frail and ancient mother.
Shocked by the suddenness of the violence and the speed at which Ze had acted, Remus and Romulus were quickly tugged along behind him by those unseen strings.
Far below the blood-soaked streets, another invisible being watched as tireless artists cut large chambers from the ancient lava tubes that networked the Martian earth. Each new cave was meant to be an expression of the artists’ love and devotion to those Great Spirits that had now long since abandoned the Red World. Statues commemorating the mighty gods were commissioned on a regular basis and a huge underground cathedral was being carved at the request of the very popular and very powerful Kaab.
Dreamscape—Sol 107
“Wait, you actually saw Remus and Romulus? Were they satellites or what?”
Harrison Raheem Assad was sitting in the Communications Room of Ilia Base, speaking quietly through a headset to Ralph Marshall as he retold the events of his visit to the ancient Martian dreamscape. Crackling through the earpiece, Marshall’s voice was slightly incredulous as he trudged back and forth between the Electrolysis Plant and an underground storage container.
Unable to tell if his friend didn’t believe him or was just distracted with his work, Harrison pressed on.
“No,” he said into the mic. “It was more like they were ghosts or steam clouds shaped like people.”
“Like normal people? Two arms, two legs, one head: that kind of thing?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuckin’ A.”
“I know.”
Leaning back in his seat, Harrison looked out the open door to make sure no one was outside listening. The hallway was empty.
“So what do you think? Should I tell Vodevski and Dr. Floyd about this?”
“No way!” Marshall shouted. “You do that, and they’ll have you on happy pills for the rest of the mission.”
“Lizzy wouldn’t let them do that to me,” Harrison said.
“Like hell she wouldn’t.”
“Well, then what should I do?”
“Sit on it man. Keep it to yourself.”
“But it felt completely real, Ralph. It was real. I know it.”
There was a pause on the other end as Marshall bent to open the hatch that led down to the storag
e container. Harrison saw the action on a screen above the Console that projected the view from Marshall’s helmet camera.
“It might have felt real, but you’re going to have a hard time proving that it was, buddy. It just sounds crazy, you know?”
“I’m not crazy though,” Harrison said helplessly.
“I know that, but look at it from an outside point of view. You’ve been through a lot of, um, personal anguish lately. Then, on top of that, we all got our brains nuked from some sun Pulse or something. You’re under stresses no human has ever dealt with before, you know? I mean, as it stands now, the prosecution has a pretty solid argument for this just being a reaction to all of that.”
Biting his lip, Harrison tried to concentrate his way out of a quandary that seemed to have endless borders.
“Think,” said Marshall, taking fuel cells from a bag and setting them on a shelf. “Is there any way you could prove it? Did Remus and Romulus tell you anything that you might not otherwise already know?”
“Not that I can remember.”
“You had any more dreams, or just that one?”
“Well,” Harrison started. “That first dream was after I hadn’t slept for a few days so I was really passed out. Lately though I sleep less than two hours a night, so the last couple of mornings I’ve only woken up with snippets of things.”
“Like what?”
“A lot of images of death. Like murdered Martians or something.”
“Hmmm,” sighed Marshall, heading back up the metal ramp towards the surface. “I’m going to be honest. None of that helps make you sound any less insane.”
“Have I ever thanked you for being such a great friend?”
“Hey, I’m on your side! I’m just telling you that it sounds crazy because it does, man.”
“Goddamn it, I know it makes me sound crazy, but it’s true.”
Grunting softly, Marshall heaved the door to the underground storage crate closed then started back towards the Electrolysis Plant for more fuel cells.
“How did this all start? What set it off?”
The Ruins of Mars: Waking Titan (The Ruins of Mars Trilogy) Page 19
